Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovakia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Circle Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Infiniti,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Style,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Harmonia,
Goldenarms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rufus Thomas,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
X-101,
The Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Litter,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dave Clark Five,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Birthday Party,
Terry Callier,
Clear Light,
Schoolly D,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Television Personalities,
Hardrive,
Skriet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fall,
Second Layer,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang Starr,
Stockholm Monsters,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Mad Mike,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smiths,
Fela Kuti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skaos,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
Kas Product,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minnie Riperton,
Das Ding,
The Gap Band,
Urselle,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.